Waking Up
by Archived-AndInactive
Summary: "We were gonna be the ones who made it, Kurt. But in the end, we're just a pair of Lima Losers, aren't we?"


**This is just a random drabbley story I came up with in a dream. I woke up at like three in the morning and realized I needed to write it down, and so now (at four in the morning) I present it to you! Enjoy!**

**Sorry for any mistakes, but it's late and I'm tired and i don't have a beta so... try and see past them. ^^**

**Every time you read and don't review, Karofsky punches an innocent child in the throat. So leave reviews please. Pretty, pretty please!**

"I'm sorry Rachel, but you're just not what we're looking for. We'd love to see you come back and audition for us again sometime, hon."

A 24-year-old Rachel tried not to let her smile falter as she nodded politely and walked briskly out of the audition room.

_Another day, another show I'm not going to be in.._

She let the grin finally fade from her face as she began the long, painful walk back to the flat that she and Kurt had been sharing for just over a year. They had come to New York with high hopes, but Broadway had proven a formidable opponent. Neither of them had ever gotten a part in anything, and though she remained optomistic, she had a feeling that Kurt was beginning to lose hope.

She turned the key to their appartment slowly, dreading walking in and announcing that there was still no money towards her half of the bills. She took a moment to cheer herself up. No need to let it get her down, after all, it was just one audition, and she was still a star! By the time she entered, she was feeling significantly better in the confidence department.

"I'm back!" The brunette called as cheerfully as possible. She was greeted with a disinterested mumble from the direction of their kitchen.

She sighed impatiently and marched over to the counter, where she found Kurt sitting with his head resting sideways on the table and a mostly-empty bottle of cheap beer falling out of his hand. Rachel pursed her lips, concerned. Kurt was not much of a drinker, so if he was half passed-out from alcohol (especially cheap beer like that; a few years of being poor had not cheapened the boy's refined tastes) at this hour, then something was wrong.

"Kurt, it's three-thirty in the afternoon. What the hell are you doing?"

"I'll three-thirty _your_ afternoon," he threatened weakly, shaking the bottle in a manner that he probably thought was menacing. He then sighed looked up at her. "So, how was your 'interview'?"

"Huh? Oh, it went... okay."

He looked into her eyes for a few moments. "You didn't go." It wasn't a question.

"What? Of course I did!"

"You're wearing your audition clothes."

"...Oh."

Kurt buried his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. "Rachel, I know this is the dream, but we have our whole lives to be famous. We need money right now. I can't keep supporting _this-_" he paused and gave an exaggerated gesture in the general direction of Rachel - "forever!"

The female diva glared at him. "Well, it's not my fault you just gave up so easily! I thought you wanted this as badly as I do! I thought this was everything, Kurt, I thought this was why we were here!" Rachel screeched. By now she was standing directly over Kurt and radiating annoyance.

"Here's an idea." the fashionista seethed. "How about _you_ work sixteen hours a day, and _I'll_ bitch about dreams!" He leapt up from the stool dramatically and added a toss of his hair for good measure, all with surprising grace for someone who was probably at least a little drunk. He looked as if he had a lot more to say, but instead only sighed and took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "I think... I'm going to go back to Ohio." He turned away.

If Rachel was mad before, now she was livid. "So you're just gonna quit! You haven't even been to an audition in months! After everything we've done, all the work, all the sacrifice just to come here and live the life we've wanted for practically our whole lives, you're going to go running back home! That's not how this was supposed to happen! This is the DREAM, dammit!" She threw her hands in the air exasperatedly and sat down on their ragtag couch (that still matched the rest of the interior, of course, Kurt wouldn't live there otherwise) with a huff.

He spun on his heel to face her again. "What dream, Rachel?" He hissed. "This isn't a dream; this is a pathetic excuse for an existance. I came here to perform, and I'm _not_. At least in Ohio there's community theater, there's shows we can actually get parts in! I'd rather go onstage for an audience of a hundred idiots than not at all. Besides, it's somewhere to go when we get kicked out of here."

She stared at him for a moment.

"Oh, yeah. The rent went up. We have until next Tuesday to come up with a thousand dollars," he recited.

Rachel was speechless. "A-a thousand? I thought you talked the landlord into giving us a reduced rate when we moved in?" Rachel's eyes were wide as she entered panic mode.

"The deal expired."

"What deal? Why?"

"He met someone."

"What does that have to do-?" The reality of the situation crashed over Rachel like a wave and she sat down hard on the couch next to Kurt as her knees stopped working. "I thought you hated that guy."

"I do. Every time we hooked up, I had to close my eyes to keep from getting nauseous." Kurt gave a half-hearted version of his trademark awkward laugh, followed by a sigh. He collapsed backwards in defeat.

Suddenly, Rachel felt a little guilty for not working. Okay, a lot guilty. "So... what... we go home? I don't want to go back, Kurt. Not as failures." She spoke quietly for the first time in as long as Kurt could remember. The brunette shook her head sadly. "This was supposed to be different. We were supposed to be stars. We were gonna be the ones who _made it, _Kurt. But in the end, we're just a pair of Lima Losers, aren't we?" She smiled sadly at him.

"Hey, we made it further than the rest of 'em. Maybe we should just call surviving in the big apple for this long a win and move on."

"Yeah." Rachel looked a little cheerier. "And hey, we have more credentials than anyone else there. I'll bet we could own Ohio theater. Maybe open up our own and start directing! Ooh, wouldn't that be fun?"

Kurt smiled genuinely for the first time in ages. "_Directing_." The thought was appealing.

Suddenly home sounded pretty nice. Well, pretty okay.


End file.
